


Beautiful Misfortune

by teatimeready



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, False Identity, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, I'm Sorry, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Tension, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, poisoned cupcakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-07-17 22:25:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7288480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatimeready/pseuds/teatimeready
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America decides to take up on an invitation from England to visit him at his home. All is well until America gets a strange feeling from England's behavior, and the cupcakes he made!</p>
<p>*Edited 3/19/17*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Can’t Have Him.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glamburger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamburger/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited 03/19/17

_****America**** _

_Mssge Egland, Bro: Good evening, America! Seeing as you are visiting my homeland, I was hoping you might be willing to spend this fine day with me, at my place? Nothing fancy, just tea and biscuit. Casual wear. I look forward to hearing from you soon!! ^.^))_

Stepping out of the vehicle, America stretches his tender, jet-lagged limbs.  _What an awesome day to visit England! I’m glad he texted me and invited me over to his place._ England wouldn't normally go out of his way to invite him over, it was always America who would just invite himself over and surprise England with a long visit. Not that England  _never_ asked him to come over, it just wasn't an everyday thing for him. So, America was overly excited for the day ahead. He wondered what his friend had planned for the day. Maybe they would finally go to that new museum America had been begging him to go to. The last time he visited they mostly just stayed at England’s home, which was fine sometimes. Though, he would never admit this to England, America secretly missed walking the many street of London with him like they used to. He also always enjoyed having small picnics at St James's Park. America took a moment adjust his jacket before strolling up to England’s doorstep. But before he can even knock, the wooden door is swung open.

“Ah-merica! How good of you to join me today!” England almost sings, “I do hope your travels weren't too direful.” Something about England's grin sent a shiver down America’s spin.  _He is awfully cheerful today. Normally he would make a comment about me just barely making it in time for afternoon tea._ _America was pleased as well as surprised with the calm, and joyful greeting._

“Uh-nope. I mean, my travels were-er fine! Thanks dude for asking!”

England gave America a once-over before giggling, slightly startling America. _Duuude, has England been drinking?!_ _America smiled, trying desperately not to chuckle at his friends interesting behavior._

“That is grand to hear, love. Oh dear, how rude of me to make you just stand there. Please, do come in!” They entered the Fourier and America was hit by a few different, pleasant aromas. If he didn't know better, America would say England had been baking! He groaned internally,  _I really hope he doesn't force me to eat any of scones... I don't have the stomach for them right now._ He tried not to think about the possibility of eating some of England's famous burnt rocks as he hung his jacket up, and continued through to the parlor room. 

“Why don’t you relax here while I get some refreshments and sweets.” America always liked this room. He normally wouldn't be into the floral interior, but there was something, so  _England_ about that made it so homey. He recalled the times spent reading with England in the room, as he would drink his tea and read papers. He would always sneak glances at the Englishman, enjoying the way his thick eyebrows would scrunch together as he would concentrate on his readings. They were found memories indeed. America walked further into the room and plopped down on the couch in England’s Parlor room, and lets out a happy sigh. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and waited for England to join him with the treats he promised. Again, he was reminded of the possibility of eating England's scones.  _Okay, I can just use tea to help it down._ Of course, he wasn't very fond of tea either. After a minute, he glances around the room and through the door into the halls. Usually there are more of England’s workers rushing around.  _Hmm, maybe he gave_ _all of them_ _the day off? England is so cool._  America’s thoughts were disrupted by the clatter of England entering with a trolley full of treats, and tea. “Are those.… Blue frosted vanilla cupcakes??”

“Quite right you are!” Placing the cart in front of him, he grabs for one and starts to unravel it, “With strawberry swirl in the middle. Very patriotic, wouldn’t you say?” He places the sweet-smelling cupcake against America’s mouth, forcing him to take a bite. A small sour after taste makes him cringe.  _Not as bad as his scones._  He closes his eyes and forces himself to swallow.

England notices America’s face and pouts, “Is it not to your liking?”

“No! DUDE, these are great! Give me five more!” America chuckles and opens his eyes, only to choke again.  _Whoa! How did he get so close!_  England places his left hand next to America’s neck, while the other rubs his thigh. He leans in, licks America’s ear, and blows on the wet spot. America starts to see stars.  _Aaah, I feel dizzy. Wait, why is the room spinning?!_  England chuckles, causing hot air to run down America’s neck. “Oh, Alfie, dear. We don’t want to eat too much before the fun even begins. Wouldn’t want you to get sick." He pouts, "Not very sexy.”

_What did he just call me? England doesn’t call me-_

“O-oli-vur?” The man on America’s lap suddenly laughs loudly. If he wasn't about to pass out, America would have jumped by the unexpected sound.

“Right you are again! By the gods, it took you long enough!” He slides off America and stands tall in front of. He crosses his arms over his chest and sneers down at America. “So, slow. So, pathetic. I dare say I don’t know what my beloved Arthur see in a foolish  _boy_  like you. You couldn’t even tell us apart!” Throwing his head back, he barks out another roaring laugh. He abruptly stops, and roughly places a boot against America’s crotch. Oliver leans in, adding pressure to the sensitive area. America can only groan as he flutters his eyes close, the darkness finally taking over. Before he completely blacks out, he hears the muffled, bitter words, “You can’t have him”

 


	2. The Struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my wonderful BFF, and beta reader- glamburger. Also to spukusuk19 for keeping me in check. <3 Enjoy.

_**England**_  

With a heavy sigh, England slumped out of his jacket, slipping off his shoes before the front door could even close. “What a complete waste of my time. Does that git honestly believe I would sign something so ridiculous?”

It wasn’t until he hung up his jacket that he noticed the absence of his normal house workers. ‘Bloody hell, was I at the office that long,’ glancing at the grandfather clock in the hallway he grumbled, ‘Most certainly not.’

 As he walked past the parlor room two things immediately caught his attention, causing his step to falter. 1.) There are two unattended cups of tea in front of the couch, and 2.) America’s bomber is laid across said couch. With knitted eyebrows, he furthered his investigation by glancing around for any more signs of America's presence. It was then that he finally noticed the handwritten letter on the treat dolly.  

_‘Welcome home, Arthur! Be a dear and meet me in the cellar. I have a surprise for you.’_  

‘Could this be America’s doing?’ he pondered. ‘It doesn't really look like his writing though.’ Without a second thought England headed for the staircase leading to the cellar.

 

*****

 

“ _Hello_ love.”

Anxiety, fear, and absolute rage, were just a few emotions that England felt as he glared at his piece of scum doppelganger, Oliver Kirkland. However, a binge of concern consumed him when he looked behind Oliver towards a restrained America tied up to a chair and silence by a piece of cloth. Clear signs of a few fresh bruises are painted across America's face causing England to clench his fist tightly and glare back at the monster most likely responsible.

“What are you doing in my house?” England demanded, taking a step towards the man. “And What have you done to America!?”

Sensing the anger radiating off England, Oliver quickly shoved the barrel of his borrowed gun against America’s temple. “Now, now, Artie. Calm down, no need to jump me,” he teased as a devilish grin smeared across his face. “At least- not just yet.” he winked, barking out a laugh at England’s startled expression. “Alright, let me explain,” he continued as he rubbed the gun against his own head while gathering his thoughts. “I’ve come here with a lovely deal that will make most parties in this room pleased. And by most parties, I mean mostly me.” He placed his hands behind his back and slowly circled his hostage watching him still trying to struggle against the restraints. “I must confess that I came here with the intent to kill your little toy, America here, and take you back to my world where we would live happily-ever-after. But then I realized that it would be much more fun to break you in front of him and then let him rot down here. Wouldn’t that be more fun, Artie?” He stopped at America’s side with a smile.

Outraged, England stepped forward. “You bastard! Do you really think-” The gun suddenly shots off, causing a bullet to fly right next to America’s left leg, barely missing it. “If you get any closer I won't miss America again,” he relaxed his shoulders. “But-- if you listen to what I say, with complete obedience, I will let your pet live.” He wrapped his arms around America, hoping to push England over the edge. “What do you say Arthur? Will you let me have you in front of this man-child, or will you make this  _harder_ than it has to be?” He snickered at his own innuendo.

England paled at his words as he no longer felt the adrenaline rush from the anger before. As the reality of the situation finally sunk in, a sense of dread filled him, realizing what he must do. There is a moment of hesitation at the thought of having to do  _that_ in front of America, but then he reminds himself that he must. For America. He loves him, and he can’t bear the thought of losing him. Even if it means losing a part of himself. Because what is England without America?  

“I-” He choked out, clearing his throat before continuing, “Alright, I’ll do it. If you promise that America will live, I will agree to your demands.” He raised his head in false confidence, waiting for Oliver’s next move.

Oliver stills for a moment, only to convulse into a fit of laugher right next to America's ear, causing him to wince from the volume. “Oh dear, oh my, was that easier than I thought it would be!” he celebrates, pinching America’s cheek. “Doesn’t that just warm your heart, America?” he teasingly shook the boy’s head as his affection soon turned sour by a vindictive leer. Reaching behind the chair, Oliver unhooked a hidden item, tossing it to England.

Catching it, he breathed in hitches when he saw what it was. A leash and a collar. “Now then, be a good little doggie and strip for me.  _Slowly._ _”_ Oliver made sure to emphasize. “Then put on the collar and lie down on the floor.”

England’s resolve finally broke as he started to unbutton his shirt while avoiding America’s horrified expression. America desperately wanted to say something, but all that came out were disgruntled groans. It was no less than a few seconds of this did Oliver bash America upside the head with his gun, silencing him as blood trickled down from the spot. “I’ll not have any of that.” He pulled America in by the hair “You need to be a good boy, too, you hear me?”

Having enough of this sicko’s rouse, America yanked his head away while maintaining a loathsome glare in Oliver’s direction. “Oh, come now, Alfie. Don’t be like that!” he viciously gripped America’s chin, pulling him in. “Do you really have something you wish to say?” He let a moment pass to pretend like America answered. “Now, now, silly boy! You should know better than to sweet talk me!” he bashfully shoved him back. “Did you think something like that would actually work?” he laughed to himself, completely mad, then immediately stops with an expressionless face. “But, I suppose since you asked so nicely...” He loosened the gag around America’s mouth.

Wasting no time, America spat out the gag. “England, what the hell are you doing?! How can you...” he trailed off as the knot in the back of his throat grew when their eyes met. “Just get out of here!”

 “I can’t! Do you expect me to just let you rot here!?”

“And I’m supposed to just sit here and let you put yourself through something like this? There’s no way!! It’s not worth it! Do you really think this bastard is going to keep his word?!”

“America, I-” he choked out a sob, “I have to at least  _try_ _!_ ”

“Good heavens, get on with it, already!” Oliver impatiently rolled his eyes. “You two are testing my patience. If you don't say it then I will.”

“SCREW YOU!” America momentarily struggles in his seat, wanting to punch Oliver, but it's no use. The restraints are far too tight, even for someone with his strength.

“Sorry, deary, but that is Artie’s job.” Again, Oliver couldn’t help but laugh like a lunatic at his own joke while the two victims tragically locked eyes.

“Don’t do this, England. I...” America’s voice wobbled as he tried holding back tears. “I lo-”

“-America” England hastily cut him off, finding it difficult to breathe. He knew that if he let America continue there was no way he would be able do it. His voice quivered, struggling to find the words. “Please, I can’t...I can’t bear to hear those words. Not here...” He paused. “Not  _now_ _._ ”  

 The pools in America’s eyes could no longer be contained as he realized England wasn’t going to change his mind.

England shamefully turned away, hiding his torn expression. “...  _I’m sorry._ _”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcomed! ^.^
> 
> Ps. I listened to Castlevania SOTN: Wood Carving Partita on repeat for this whole chapter. ^_^ So beautiful. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jL0UoyFS7Ww


	3. The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. ^.^'
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: Rape, and choking. Read with care.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Cheers.

_“Engwaaaandd!!” A young America yelled as he ran down the hallway right into England’s legs._

 

_ “What is it America?” England asked as he bent down and picked the little boy up into his arms. “What is that in your hands?” _

 

_ “It’s a book!” America explains proudly, “Will you read it to me? Pweeaase!” _

 

_ England glanced down at the book in the young boy’s hands and chuckled softly. “That is a book for adults. Much too scary for little boys such as yourself.” _

 

_ America fakes a few sniffles and England rolled his eyes lovingly. _

 

_ “Alright, no need to cry.” England gave in, hoisting America up into his arms. “But if you end up getting scared, it’s your fault.” _

 

_ “Don’t worry Engwand… I’m not afwaid of anyfing!” _

 

_ “Oh really? Then why do you insist on crawling into bed with me?” _

_ “So I can protect you!” _

 

_ England smiles down at America, seeing through his lie, ruffling the boy’s hair. “No need to worry, love. Nothing is going to happen to me. We will always be right here. After all, what would England be without his little America?” _

 

_************ _

 

Having never felt so dirty as he did in the moment, his naked body was spread across the floor completely exposed in front of America.  Oliver was naked as well, rubbing slowly up and down his flesh. “I always knew you had a body under those stuffy clothes you love so much.” he teased trickling his fingers down England’s body. “So, smooth. So, pink. Like a delicious peach just waiting to be devoured.” England grinded his teeth, trying his best to stay painfully still in attempt to remove himself from the situation at hand. Oliver sensed this and purred in his ear, “Why so shy Artie, hmmm,” he asked, as he crouched down to England’s soft shaft. He licked his lips and glanced at England with hooded eyes, “How many licks do you think it takes to get to the creamy center?”

Before he could even think to reply, Oliver darted out his tongue and tasted him, causing England to jerk into Oliver’s mouth. “Ahhh!” Oliver smiled over England’s cock, slowly bobbing his head up and down. Noticing that his sounds encouraged him, England quickly bit the inside of his cheek to silence himself. Sweat started to form on his brow, as he felt himself getting hard under Oliver’s skillful, foul tongue. ‘ _How_ _can my body let him have this effect on me. It’s revolting.’_ England turned his right cheek onto the filthy floor, shutting his eyes tightly.

Oliver stopped working England’s shaft with his mouth, switching to his hand as the other tugged on the leash connected to England’s neck, “That won't do, Love. I want you to look me in the eyes while we fuck,” His words produce a shiver down England’s spine, which made him realize that he was fully hard now. Oliver noticed as well, and crawled on top him, rubbing his lewd hole over England’s tip. “Oooh _America_ _,_ ” he sang, “How the view from over there? Surely not as nice as mine. If only you could see the look on Artie’s face right now. The epitome of a blushing bride!”

 

 **“** You’re a sick fuck!” America cried, refusing to look at what was happening in front of him. The love of his life was suffering and for what? For him? Was he really worth this? America dug himself into a self-deprecating hole. Could England even forgive him? No... how could he… he bit his lip, holding back a sob. He was supposed to be the hero...but what a pathetic hero he turned out to be.

 

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser. If anyone is going to be sore, it’s me! HA!” Oliver cackled, aligning himself. Looking down at England, he relished in the moment as a wave of enticement tickled his naughty bone. Oliver’s breath quickened as he slowly lowered himself onto him causing England to grunt at the sheer tightness and overwhelming heat of him. He loved seeing pain and pleasure contort England’s face. As England’s length continued to fill him, he wasted no time rocking back and forth, taking the cock deeper and deeper.

For a moment, the only noise in the room were heavy breathing, wanton grunts, and the lewd sound of wet flesh smacking into flesh. Almost naturally, like a well-trained orchestra, the sounds formed a song. He was finally one with England, and  _ohhh_ did it feel wonderful! Filled with bliss, his gaze floated back to England’s fragile state seeing him choke back his tears until it was no longer possible.

 

“Oh, Arthur…” he sighed. “Sweet Arthur...” His voice imitating empathy, as he leaned over him. “DearestArthur,” he whispered, drawing himself closer to England’s face, delicately cupping his hands around it. “Don’t cry... It’s going to be alright.  _We’re_ going to be alright. See?” He wiped a tear from England’s cheek with a tender smile. “As long as we have each other, we don’t need anyone else.” His fingers traced across England’s lip as he drew his closer. “It’s always been  _just_ us...” he breathed, moments away from tasting England’s sweet embrace when England jerked his face away.

 

“Don’t act like you know me. I’m nothing like you,” he finally dared to resist. “I pity you...”  

 

Oliver’s loving expression suddenly twisted into something hideous at the drop of England’s words. His delicate touch turned into a violent grip around England’s jaw.

“...You? Pity...  _ME_ _?_ Do you even see yourself right now!” He shoved England’s head back as hatred clouded his eyes.

 

“For you to end up like this…” England continued, “It must have been lonely... Having everyone turn their backs on you...  _leave you._ _”_ adding on the last part loud enough for only Oliver to hear. “You’re nothing more than a sham of a nation--”

 

“CHATTY, aren’t we?” Oliver tugged the leash hard enough to yank England up. “You’re so much more of a delight when you’re quiet, so how about we try something new?” He gripped one set of fingers around England’s neck. “I hear cumming while being strangled is to die for--AHA!” He pushed him back down, adding another hand around England’s throat as he readied himself to have at it. England’s vision blurred as he could feel himself losing consciousness. Just when he thought he would lose, the sound of a wooden bat bashing Oliver granted him instant relief as the force was enough to knock Oliver off, leaving England desperately gasping for air.

 

“And what the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” a pissy voice demanded as England slowly regained his wits. Unfortunately for him, that saving grace is just another chapter this never-ending nightmare.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I of course could not have done this without the wonderful glamburger. Thank you for putting up with my complaining, and for helping me move this along. <3


	4. The Otherside of Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is here. Enjoy~

_“And what the fuck do ya think you’re doing?” A pissy voice demanded as England slowly regained his wits. Unfortunately for him, that saving grace is just another chapter this never-ending nightmare._

 

*********

 

Oliver woundedly pushed himself up, using one hand to wipe away the blood from his scalp caused from the blunt trauma.

 

“My, my, Ally-bally...” he began in his usual tone, but then gritted his teeth. “ Didn’t I teach you better manners than that?”

 

“As if I’d let a fucking psycho like you teach me anything.” He spat flinging a pile of clothes at him. “Now get dressed you disgusting fuck.”

 

“Such an ungrateful child,” Oliver glared, refusing to comply.

 

“You better get fucking dressed or I’m going to take this bat and shove it up your ass.”

 

“Oooh, yes please! If only it was your bat with the spikes.”

 

“And as for you--I can’t believe you actually fell for all of this. How dumb are you?” He mocked, approaching America with a snide laugh. “Don’t you know the first rule?” He was now towering over America from the front. “Never eat England’s cooking!” He slammed his foot down on the seat in between America’s legs, causing America to wince until he realized that his crotch was safe and looked up at the smug face sneering at him. “No matter which one.” Alex finished by pushing off the chair, heading back to an unconscious Oliver and lugged him over his shoulder before heading to the door.

 

“Wait--” America yelled, causing his double to stop.

“WHAT.” He responded irritably, not turning around.

America had so many questions in his head but all he could think of to ask was, “Why?” _Why are you helping us?_

The other didn’t respond to the question, but when he did speak it was with anger and annoyance, “ _Next time_ we run into each other don’t think I won’t kick your ass.” And with that declaration, the two men left.

 

************

 

_You’re disgusting._

 

I’ll wash it away.

 

_You repulse him._

 

I know he understands.

 

_He hates you now._

 

He still loves me.

 

_How can you even love yourself?_

 

  

 

_I can’t._

 

Steam from the shower wrapped around England like a blanket, keeping him safe for the moment, from the world around him. Fresh tears mixed with the water as he tried to wash the unseen filth from his damaged flesh.

 

_“I always knew you had a body under those stuffy clothes you love so much.”_

 

Oliver’s words coursed through his mind like poison.

 

_“So smooth, so pink. Like a delicious peach.”_

 

Tracing over the spot where Oliver had bitten _,_ he cringed.

 

_“Oooh, so sweet you are, Artie.”_

 

England wished he could shut it out, but that was impossible. The vile words clawed at his brain like a hungry predator. He attempted to rid himself of the memories; he aggressively scrubbed at his neck causing fresh red marks to taint his sensitive skin.

 

 _How will I ever recover from this_ , England thought, _Will America ever look at me the same way? Will anyone for that matter?_ Of course he already knew the truth. How could he think it would be any different?  He was completely broken now. And still alone like he will always be.

****

On the other side of the bathroom door, America struggled with whether he should check up on England. After what happened, he didn’t know if he could pick up the broken pieces. There was no pretending like it didn’t happen. It did. And it was something they would have to live with for the rest of their lives. But it didn’t change his feelings. If anything, it made him love him more.

 

“ _England_ -” He started to speak, but nothing actually came out. America didn’t even know if England wanted to hear what he had to say.

 

“I know you are there,” England’s broken voice brought him out of the spiraling thoughts he was drowning in. He could barely recognize that voice.

 

America looked up and saw that England was still facing away from him, almost like he was shielding himself from the outside world. America reached out and placed his hand on the shower door, “I am. And I don’t plan on leaving you. _Ever_ ,” America almost whispered the words. He really meant it too. Although something so unpleasant happened to them, England more than him, he still couldn’t imagine ever completely erasing him from his life. England was too important to him, and he wouldn’t let anything get in the way of their relationship. Not anymore.

There was a silent still, the only sound in the room was of running water and America’s almost heavy panting. He was afraid England didn’t hear him. So he stood straight and in a more confidant voice asked, “Did you hear me, England?” Still no reply from inside the shower, “I’m never going to you. Because-” He hesitated for a moment. America wanted to say what he felt, and he wanted to get it right so there were no doubts from England. “I love you, _Arthur._ I always have and I always will. What happened today,” He takes a deep breath to calm his shaky voice, “I want-I _need_ you to know that none of it changes how I feel about you. I want to spend the rest of my years with you and you alone. And after you get out of the shower we can start fresh, okay? I promise I will hold you forever and never let go-” There was a sudden hallowing sound from inside the shower and America realized that it was England choking back a sobs. Without any second thought America swung the shower door open and rushed in, completely regarding the clothes he was still wearing. He gently wrapped his arms around England and buried his face into the creek of England neck before he could figure out if the wetness on his face was from the water, or if it was from his tears. America could feel his heartbeat vibrate off of England’s back, and brought himself closer to England to try and calm it. After a few ticks he felt England’s body vibrate even stronger due to the fact that England was laughing. The sweet song of his laughter made America believe that there really was a chance his heart could explode from happiness.

 

England reacted out and turned off the shower water. Without turning his body he asked, “I thought you were going to wait until I was out of the shower?”

America could hear the smile in his voice and let out a small chuckle, even though it was clear they were still crying softly. America released his hold on England enough to glance at his face. “I meant it,” He stated as he tried to put on a brave face, “Every word. I just want you to know-”

England cut him off as he turned to face him, “I know, Alfred. Thank you,” He brought a hand up to America’s check, “You must know that I love you as well. Always have,” He started to softly stroke America’s cheek with his thumb, “And you also know that this-” His breath hitched and he looked away for a moment, “What happened today… It isn’t something that I can easily forget. There will be days where I might be fine, while other days I’m a mess,” England stared back into America’s eyes, “Do you understand what that means, for us?”

 

America covered the hand that was stroking his cheek with his own. He did know what it meant. It meant that he would be blessed with the gift of showing England how much he loved him every day. America smiled and kissed England’s wrist, “Yes, I do. And don’t think I’m not in for the long-run,” England smiled up at America before he brought him into a tender kiss.

 

Although this day was filled with many misfortunes, there was no denying that something absolutely beautiful bloomed between England and America; something that had been growing inside for numerous years, and it will keep growing for several years to come.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe this is finally finished! I just want to thank the readers who have stuck with me from the start, as well as the new readers! I feel like this felt a little rushed, so I might be making an epilogue in the near future. 
> 
> I'm also thinking of writing a 2p!America/England spin-off of this, but I'm not %100 sure yet. 
> 
> Again, thank you for all the likes and comments! This was a blast! Cheers.


End file.
